


Candles

by AmazingAbigail



Series: Fixing Yesterdays [3]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: F/M, Margo cries a lot, Story divergence, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingAbigail/pseuds/AmazingAbigail
Summary: Margo's parents forget her birthday





	Candles

_I lean against Neil’s desk and cross my ankles in front of me. “I’m only calling because my birthday is Thursday and I want to subtly remind my mother, in case she’s busy with something and it’s slipped her mind.”_

_His eyes grow wide. “H-have they forgotten it in the past?”_

_I nod. “Once; last year,” I tell him. “I was so mad I couldn’t stop shaking and crying and yelling all night. The next morning, father called and apologized, and I wanted to hang up on him, but I accepted the apology, made some excuse to go, and hung up.”_

 

 

I go to the office after dinner. The sinking feeling in my stomach doesn’t go away when Tabitha informs me I haven’t received any phone calls. I go to my room and lock the door, for the first time since I’ve been here.

            I sit on the edge of my bed and before I can stop myself, I’m crying. I’m sobbing. I hate my parents. I hate them! This isn’t fair. I’m their only child! What on earth could be so important that they forgot me?

            I cover my mouth with my hand and scream into it. It’s muffled, so I do it again.

            When my throat starts to hurt, I stop. I tug at my hair, pulling it from its holder, and grip it between my fingers. I can’t stop crying. I want to stop crying.

            Knocking at my door makes me jump. The person tries the knob, but thankfully I’ve locked it. My heart is pounding.

            “Margo?” I hear through the door. It’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil.

            “I’m b-busy,” I call, cursing my voice for breaking. “Go away.”

            “I thought we were studying for biology,” he says. “Will you open the door?”

            “Go away!” I repeat, louder.

            “Not until you open the door.”

            I sigh and unlock the door, but I don’t open it. I go to my desk and open my history text before Neil opens the door.

            “Hopkins said he heard shouting.”

            I shrug. “He’s insane; I haven’t heard anything.”

            He pauses, before coming forward. “What’s wrong?” he demands.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. “Now, can you please go?”

            “No.”

            I look up at him. “What do you mean no?”

            “You’ve been crying. Hopkins said the shouting was coming from here. What’s wrong?” he repeats. I look away, my eyes start watering again. “Not having a good birthday?”

            I drop my book and start sobbing into my hands. Neil is at my side in an instant. “Margo, I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry!”

            “It’s not you!” I shout, pushing away from him. “It’s my parents!”

            He stands. “I don’t understand.”

            In a sudden fit of anger, I grab my history book and throw it against the door. The door closes as it hits hard and the noise it makes gives me a strange sense of relief. Neil looks from me to the door and back quickly, looking startled. “What,”

            “They forgot!” I yell. I grab the algebra book from my bed and throw it too. “It’s my birthday and they forgot it!” I reach for my English book, but Neil jumps in the way.

            “Stop, stop!” Neil says.

            I try to shove him out of the way, but he won’t budge. “It’s not fair!” I sob. His arms wrap around me and I lean into his chest. I grip the fabric of his shirt tightly.

            The door opens and I turn my head quickly.

            “What’s going on in here?” Charlie demands.

            “Get out,” I mumble into Neil’s shoulder.

            “We heard shouting and thumping down the hall,” Knox adds.

            There’s a moment of silence, and then I hear the door click closed. I peek up and see the two of them standing at my desk. Both of my books have been picked up.

            “What’s going on?” Charlie repeats.

            I pull myself away from Neil and gesture to the door. “Get out,” I repeat, louder.

            “Are you crying?” Knox asks.

            “Get out!” I shout at the three of them.

            Neil grabs my arm. “You aren’t mad at us,” he says to remind me. And I know that. But they’re the only one’s here and I could never tell my parents off like I want to.

            “I don’t care,” I tell him. “I want you _out_.”

            “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Charlie demands as he comes towards me. I try to shove him, but he doesn’t move either. Why aren’t I strong enough to shove them? It would make me feel better, I’m sure.

            “Charlie, don’t,” Neil says slowly.

            “What? Birthday girl here not having a good day?”

            I grab my English book and throw it. It misses the window by a couple inches, and while I’m glad it didn’t break, the book doesn’t hit with the same power as the other ones did.

            Neil hurries over to Charlie, and I can hear him tell them, “Her parents forgot.”

            “What?” Knox says as if he can’t believe it.

            I grab the back of my chair and grip it tightly. “It’s not fair,” I whisper. I close my eyes tightly and grip the chair tighter and start sobbing again.

            “Margo,” Charlie starts but doesn’t finish. Someone steps up behind me and puts their hand on my shoulder. I try to shrug it off, but it stays. A book comes into my line of sight. I look at it, and then up at Charlie, who’s the one behind me, and the one holding my algebra book.

            “Go ahead,” he tells me.

            I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “What?”

            “Charlie,” Neil starts.

            “Let her throw it, who gives a damn?”

            I take the book from him and just hold onto it for a moment. I close my eyes again, trying to get the tears to stop, but instead it just makes everything worse, and I’m a sobbing mess again.

            Charlie hugs me tightly, and for a moment I’m surprised. Charlie’s never hugged me before. “Knock it off,” he says lightly. I bury my face in his shoulder. “Just because your asshole parents forgot doesn’t mean anything.”

            “Charlie,” Neil starts again.

            “They _are_ assholes,” Knox agrees forcibly. “I have six brothers and sisters, but I still get a call early enough.”

            “You still had a good day,” Charlie continues.

            “Algebra was cancelled,” Neil says.

            “You got a pretty good grade on your English test,” Knox adds.

            I pull away from Charlie enough to look at the three of them.

            “Plus, you shoved two of us and cried without being made fun of. Overall, I think it was a good day.”

 

The three of them spend the night in my room with me. I try to get some sleep, but I’m more hurt than I realize, so I don’t sleep, and neither do the others.

            When we’re on our way to breakfast, Maggie calls me in to tell me I have a phone call. My heart drops and leaps almost simultaneously.

            “Tell them how you feel,” Knox says as they continue for the dining hall.

            “Or just tell them off,” Charlie add.

            I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

            I enter the office and take the phone from Maggie. “Hello?”

            “Hello Margaret.”

            I lean back in my chair, startled. “Father, what a surprise.” My father never called. It was always mother.

            “I’m calling to apologize for your mother,” he says after a pause. “She was busy yesterday with the church bazaar and they were so busy she forgot to call and wish you a happy birthday.” He’s apologizing for her, but not for himself?

            I take a deep breath and struggle not to tell him off like Charlie wants me too. “I understand,” I tell him, even though I don’t, and I don’t want to talk to him anymore.

            “That’s my girl,” he says.

            After a pause, filled with silence, I tell him I have to get to class and we hang up without another word.

            I miss breakfast, so I go to class. I slide in my seat beside Meeks and behind Knox, who turns and asks, “How’d it go?”

            “I didn’t tell anyone off,” I assure him. He looks almost crestfallen. “But I cut the conversation short.”

            “Good,” he says as class gets started.

            I try to push yesterday out of my head.


End file.
